


HIATUS One Small Change

by Write_Your_Rose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Episode: s04e13 After School Special, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:19:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Write_Your_Rose/pseuds/Write_Your_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, it's the smallest things that make the biggest difference.</p>
<p>S04E13-After School Special AU. Sam meets Lydia, a sick girl who knows she's dying and wants to make her last weeks alive the best of her life. And Sam decides to make them his best, too. </p>
<p>But when 'the job' takes Sam away, he has to make a choice. And that choice will affect him far more than he can imagine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	HIATUS One Small Change

**Author's Note:**

> Bonjour! *wiggles fake moustache suggestively*  
> This is my first SPN Fic, and I'm super excited about how it will turn out! A fair warning, though: while it's currently rated T, later chapters will require me to add tags and up the rating to either Mature or Explict.  
> Now that you have that in mind, READ ON

Another dreary town, another school that Sam can’t get too attached to.

“You Know the rules, Dean,” John said. He turned the car, and the school came into sight.

“Shoot first, ask later,” Dean repeated for what had to be the thousandth time. “And take care of Sammy.”

Sam rolled his eyes. He was 14; he didn’t need Dean’s constant protection.

“How long are we staying this time?” Sam asked.

“As long as the job keeps me, Sam,” John said.

Sam glared at the back of his father’s head. He hated this. He hated not knowing when he was going to be uprooted again. He hated-

“Dad! Look out!” Dean shouted.

Sam lurched forward and slammed his head into the front seat. A second later, he careened back, his overstuffed backpack saving him from whiplash.

“Crazy fucker,” John muttered as he jerked his door open and stomped out.

Sam shook his head to clear the fuzziness and craned his neck to see. 

A freakishly tall man in a business suit stood in front of the Impala, listening to John cuss him out. Sam prayed to God that his dad wouldn't start a fist fight, not at the school. 

"Dude, check out the chick," Dean whispered to him.

Sam frowned but then saw what he was talking about. 

A girl stood just in front of the passenger side mirror, watching the one-sided verbal abuse John was hashing out. She look about 16, maybe 17 tops. It was hard to tell when she trying to duck her head into her oversized shirt. Her long hair obstructed her face, but she winced at every (frequent) cuss. 

The girl glanced at the car. She apparently saw Dean first, because her entire face turned red within seconds.

"She's kinda cute," Dean said. Sam could practically hear the flirtatious grin on his face, and he gave up any hopes of actually talking to her. 

Sam opened the far door and stepped out.

"Where you going?" Dean asked.

"Class, cuz I actually like school," Sam snapped, and he slammed the door. 

John was now yelling endless profanities at the tall man. He seemed unfazed by the stupid rant.

The girl looked over from the other side of the car. She lifted her hand tentatively. "Wait," she mouthed. 

The tall man looked over to her and nodded. "Go on to class, sweetie. I'll pick you up at 3:30," he said. The girl, his daughter, dashed around the back of the car. 

"Thanks for waiting," she whispered when she reached Sam.

Sam opened his mouth but words fled him. This girl was actually kinda cute. Her face was a little chubby underneath the long strands of dark hair, but there was very little of it he could see past the heavy makeup she wore. 

Sam turned to the school and walked as fast as he could

"You heading to class?" she squeaked, her long legs keeping up easily.

Sam felt his face turn red, and he nodded. 

"You been here a while?" she asked. Sam looked up at her. Her green eyes seemed pretty eager for him to answer, but she also looked scared, like him. That calmed him down a bit.

"I'm new," he said. "Just started today."

"Freshman?" she guessed, a smile on her face now. 

"Yeah." 

"Me, too." 

Sam stopped in his tracks. He turned and faced her. 

"Fuck, you're a freshman?" Dean exclaimed, suddenly appearing beside Sam. "You look like a junior at least." 

She blushed and refused to look at Dean. "Lydia Cartwright," she said, sticking her hand out to Sam.

"Sam Winchester," he replied.

Dean, ignoring how he had been ignored, put his hand on her shoulder. She jumped back and huddled closer to Sam. 

"Hey, sorry about our dad over there," Dean said. "He can get a little hot-headed."

Lydia leaned around, where the two dads had already parted and left. She waved her hand. "No big deal," she replied. "My dad can take care of himself. And besides, we were jay-walking."

Dean chuckled and turned to Sam. "Why don't you give her the grand tour, Sammy?" he suggested, winking at him and sauntering off to class.

Just then, the first bell rang. 

"Better hurry to the office," Lydia said. She looked at him expectantly, but Sam examined his feet, unable to think of a witty enough response.

"So, where could that office be?" Sam muttered. 

\----

Sam had no idea what he was doing, other than he was walking hopelessly lost with a cute girl and their hands kept... touching? He couldn't really tell because any sensation caused him to instinctively check his pocket knife in his jacket. Of course, he wouldn't bother to keep it in there for very long.

 "Well, there goes my hope of being on time for the first day," Lydia joked nervously as the third and final bell rang. 

Sam's stomach dropped. "Mine, too," he said. 

They turned a corner, for what seemed like the hundredth time, and of course the office was right there at the front of the school. They'd walked right past it and circled the whole first floor. 

"Sam smacked his for head. "I passed right by it," he chided himself. "How could we have missed it?"

The he remembered: he was looking at the floor in an attempt to hide his burning red face from Lydia as she looked right at him, asking about his previous school.

"Well, I feel stupid," Lydia said, reaching for the door handle.

Sam darted foreward, grabbing the handle and opening it. In doing so, he stepped on her foot. 

"Ouch!" she yelped. 

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, holding it open for her. Lydia smiled and thanked him, gliding into the office, Sam following behind. 

When the door closed, an old woman swiveled around in her chair and sneered. "Well," she sniffed sternly. "Not a good way to start your first day, chickies"

Sam stepped up to the desk, barely able to see over the high counter top. The large, wrinkled woman loomed behind the table with a tight bun and a tighter sneer on her tacky red lips. 

Sam never felt more relaxed. This was his normal territory. "Got lost. Can we please have our schedules?" he asked as politely as possible.

The woman snorted and turned to Lydia. "And you?" she accused. "Dumbly followed him, I presume?"

"I'm perfectly capable of getting myself lost, thank you kindly," she retorted. Sam glanced back and almost giggled at the annoyed look on her face. She kinda looked like Dean when he was fed up with a snobby jock. Except with makeup.

The crone rolled her eyes but plopped off her high chair and teetered over to a filing cabinet. "Names," she commanded.

"Lydia A. Cartwright."

"Samuel Winchester."

The woman began flicking through the files with her talon like fingernails. 

Lydia leaned close to him. "Another bitchy secretary," she muttered.

Sam grinned. "Isn't it a requirement for high schools?" Sam replied. Lydia snorted loudly, and her hand flew to her nose. Sam started laughing, and the old crone glared at them. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop, but he struggled every time he glanced at Lydia's reddened, yet grinning face.

"That's enough, you two!" the secretary snapped, plopping back into her chair. She slid two thick manila folders across the table. "Schedule, student code of conduct, and nurse pamphlets. I expect I'll be seeing your face here often, Ms. Cartwright." The woman glared over the counter at Lydia. Sam looked over and saw that all the color had drained from her face.

"I should hope not, miss," she monotoned.

"Hmph! Get to class, you two!" the secretary ordered.

Sam grabbed Lydia's hand and bolted them out of the office. They dashed down the hall and stopped at the corner, safely out of sight of the office. 

"Damn," Sam said. "That old hen is the crankiest I've met."

Lydia leaned against the wall and smiled tiredly, panting a little. "You've never met a night nurse, have you?" she said.

"Huh?"

Lydia shook her head, instead dropping her backpack and pulling out a white piece of paper. "So what's your schedule looking like?" she asked. 

Sam put his backpack down, too, and he pulled out his own schedule. "English first, Phys-Ed, Bio, World Geography, Lunch, Algebra and Theatre," he said.

"Who's your English teacher?" she asked excitedly.

"Wyatt," Sam replied hopefully. It'd be nice to know someone for once.

But Lydia's face fell. "Dang it. I have Smith," she said.

"No other subjects?"

She shook her head. "Not even lunch," she sighed.

Sam felt another wave of disappointment, so familiar after living like he has. He pushed himself off the wall, refusing to look at her as he picked up his backpack. 

"So, see you around?" she asked, pulling her own up.

"Unlikely," he thought. "Sure," he said instead.

"Hey!" an older student shouted. "You two! Where are your passes?" 

Sam caught the shine of the 'Hall Moniter' sash and turned to Lydia. "Go! Move now!" he whispered. 

They separated, sprinting away from the hall monitor's detention cards and tardies. 

When he finally escaped the boy, Sam scanned his schedule. He loathed the name next to the English abbreviation. Stupid Wyatt. He'd almost made a friend, who happened to be female. 

He glanced at the room number and began sulkily searching for the room. All the while, he muttered, "Stupid Wyatt, stupid schedule."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you're reading this, thank you for actually finishing the chapter ! While you're down here, mind leaving a comment? Thanks, & I'll see you next week!


End file.
